I thought, "Maybe she cares me after all."
I sent her a message: [I'm at Oray's track. Let's talk after the race.]
I admitted to myself that I still couldn't let go, but I wasn't sure if it was her I couldn't let go of or the ten years we spent together.
I prayed to the heavens—if I could win, maybe we could go back to how things were. I'd be willing to overlook all this pain.
Kate arrived, but she was accompanied by Vincent.
She was as stunning as ever, the kind of beauty that drew every man's gaze like a magnet.
I was no exception.
When Kate saw me on the track, her beautiful eyes widened with surprise.
Strangely, though, I felt an unexpected calm inside.
I thought, "I know her well, but does she really understand me?
Does she grasp that I am this wild, stubborn, and impulsive person?"
I didn't linger on her face; it seemed to unsettle her.
But I didn't turn back.
The starting gun fired, and I took off like an arrow from a bow, leaving Vincent far behind.
Rebecca had told me that Vincent was the favorite to win, but I just smirked.
The record I set ten years ago still stood unbroken.
Vincent and I charged towards the finish line, neck and neck.